


Can't Tear My Eyes Away from You

by Mishafer



Series: Saturating the Reibert tag with Actual Reibert Fics [14]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Romance, Dissociation, First Meetings, M/M, Reibert Secret Santa 2018, Requited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slight Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafer/pseuds/Mishafer
Summary: Bertholdt's spent his life learning everything about Reiner. The way he talks, the way he moves, the way he lies. Though he always does so from the sidelines. Until the day comes when he's ready to step up and fight for him. On that day he kisses Reiner. And punches Zeke.





	Can't Tear My Eyes Away from You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohdobertell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdobertell/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, ohdobertell! Hope you enjoy. <3

"Do you need some help?" Bertholdt's small voice is tentative, trying to avoid shaming the blond boy's ignorance. Reassembling a rifle is no small feat.

The blond boy peers up from the table. Copper-colored eyes ripe with stress. "I can get it."

Bertholdt nods, unbelieving, but doesn't press.

Out of all the children in the warrior program, this boy stands out the most. His drive is unparalleled to the others. Bertholdt himself has never known such a thing—he just does what he's told. But this boy possesses a will more powerful than his physical strength. He wonders if his home life is anything like his own. Expected to be the best from birth.

The boy whimpers and decries himself when a piece of the gun clatters to the ground.

Bertholdt wants to ask his name, but decides to let him continue with the rifle.

At lunch, Bertholdt makes a point to sit beside him. Holding a tray full of fare that's only slightly better than what he has at home.

"Did you figure the rifle out?" Bertholdt asks.

From the way he picks at his bread, he assumes not.

"No," the boy replies. "I should've let you help me."

He nibbles at his own bread. "I'll help you next time."

He smacks his fist on the table. "There won't be a next time. " Bertholdt gulps down his bread. The boy balls his fist tighter. "And I'm your competition. Why would you help me?"

"Because I'll pass no matter what. And I like helping. It's no problem, really."

His fist loosens. "Thanks." He starts back to his meal before turning. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Bertholdt."

"Bertholdt. I'm Reiner." Reiner's handshake nearly pulls Bertholdt's arm off.

_He's trying so hard..._

A grumble sounds from the far end of the room. Porco stomps toward the exit with steam practically rising from his ears. But he's no titan yet.

That Porco is mean to Reiner, and if it were Bertholdt's place he would tell him off. But that's rude. His father always tells him to mind himself and do what he was told. He's never mean about it, which makes Bertholdt think he says it just because it's what he's been told too.

A silence grows between them and Bertholdt wants to say something reassuring but doesn't know what. Then an idea stirs, and it's not what his father would consider good manners.

"I bet he had an  _accident_  in his pants."

Reiner spits out his milk. He should not have said that, but the way Reiner laugh is infectious and Berthloldt starts giggling too.

Reiner snatches his napkin and hunches over to hide his laughter. "You're—" He coughs. "You're funny."

_Me?_

Bertholdt is never called funny. That's not what he's known for. But hearing it makes him smile. So different from the usual compliments about what a good shot he is and how appropriate he's acting. It's a compliment he feels good about. One all his own.

"Don't tell anyone I said that," Bertholdt says, then stiffens. "Magath's looking. Act natural."

* * *

The rain is relentless. Falling down in sheets as Bertholdt shuts his bedroom window. Traveling to Paradis island would be treacherous if the rain keeps up. His father is coughing up a storm of his own in the other room. Which he's been doing a lot lately, Bertholdt notices.

Reiner sits across from him on his twin bed. A row of playing cards cuts between them.

"There's something about me you don't know," Reiner says suddenly, hands fiddling with a seven of hearts.

Bertholdt's ears attune from his father's hacking to Reiner. "What is it?"

Reiner is silent for a while, so long Bertholdt thinks he isn't going to answer. Then he eyes the cracked door and scoots closer. "I don't know if what I'm doing all of this for will really happen."

Reiner's intent on uniting his family has been so fervent since the day explained his goals. Yet after he was selected, something felt dampened about it.

"How come?"

His throat bobs and his voice drifts out a soft whisper, "Because my father isn't like me. Or like my mom, or you." Bertholdt blinks, scouring his mind for what that means. What isn't like Reiner, himself, or Karina? "I shouldn't even be telling you this because it's not okay. But it's the reason I don't think my family can live together."

His holds back a gasp once he realizes. No... it can't be. This whole time?

"Reiner... is you dad Mar—"

He flinches. "Shhh! Quiet!" His eyes dart around in a fit. "You can't say it!"

"I'm sorry." He puts a hand over his mouth. "I didn't mean to."

Reiner buries his head in his hands, fists balling by his ears.

"It's okay," Bertholdt says. "That stuff doesn't matter to me."

His head whips up. "Huh? What do you mean it doesn't matter? Of course it matters."

"Not to me it doesn't."

He grits his teeth. "It should."

Is he looking for a reaction? Disgust? Judgement?

But with a shake of his head he reassures, "Nothing's changed for me."

"Why? Why not? Bertholdt, you have the greatest titan of them all. I'm not even... You should turn me in. Or kill me."

He shakes his head even harder. "No. I'd never do that."

_I don't want to kill anyone, actually._

But he'll never say it. Even to Reiner.

"This was a bad idea." He forces a pained laugh and lays down the now crumpled seven of hearts. "I was kidding anyway."

He's not kidding. The tears welled in his eyes say that clearly enough. But Bertholdt nods and agrees, and intends to never speak of it again.

Bertholdt winces at the latest hack his father made in the other room. "Lemme check on my dad real quick."

* * *

There is something different about Reiner. It's not the adopted bravado of Marcel. It's not his new stature. Nor is it any of the things that Bertholdt has known is different about Reiner all along. What he notices now makes him chew his lips chapped.

Reiner looks at boys the way girls look at boys.

Bertholdt watches Reiner a lot. He has to, it's his job. So it's impossible not to notice this. Especially when chatter about girls and boys resounds all over the mountain village. Sneaking its way in between talk of war and peace and titans. He could excuse Reiner's gaze at other men as envy for their adult physiques. But on this particular day two girls ogle the local blacksmith. A gleam in their eye and blush creeping up their necks. Biting smiles into their cheeks as if that will mask their infatuation. And Reiner is doing the same thing.

"Hey, Reiner," Bertholdt says as he perches on the log where Reiner watches the blacksmith from afar.

"Tell Annie I'll be back in a few," he says, attention unwavering.

He starts to comply, but can't help but add, "What are you watching him for?"

He rubs his rosy neck. "Gotta learn blacksmithing somewhere."

"Why don't you go ask him to show you?"

"I uh, I don't think he's the teaching type."

Bertholdt smiles a little and nudges his hand. "Ask him."

Reiner blushes in full—yes, an actual blush to Bertholdt's amazement—as the blacksmith brings up his arm to wipe his forehead. "I'm fine watching."

"He might like you."

Reiner's expression darkens, and he turns his body to face Bertholdt. "Why do you say that?"

"I just thought you could learn from him."

"Why did you think he would like me?" He inches closer. "Why does that matter?" Closer.

Bertholdt's grips the rough tree bark beneath him. "I didn't. Nevermind. Just learn and watch."

His ever-squaring jaw clenches. "I'm not interested in these devils liking me."

"That's not what I meant."

It wasn't. And he thinks it'd be better if Reiner assumed he meant boys. His hatred for the Paradis Eldians remains strong. In name only though it seems.

"That's just what you meant. Don't you start thinking the same thing. Don't forget about your sick father." He stands up and trudges off through the crunchy leaves.

Bertholdt pulls his knees to his chest.

* * *

Bertholdt pierces the tree with his climbing spike and hoists himself up. Easy. He learned this back in Marley. It's child's play. Meanwhile others in the 104th struggle. One of whom is Mina two trees away. Reiner shouts tips at her from the ground. Caught between annoyance and gratitude, Bertholdt has noticed Reiner acting as a leader of sorts. Such an image is apt in blocking any suspicion of a mysterious mountain village. But it irks the part of him that's selfish and wants Reiner all to himself.

He shakes it from his mind and returns to climbing when he sees Krista taking the tree after Mina. And Reiner looks at her like he's never seen him look at a girl. Bertholdt fails to hook his spike and falters. Scrambling to relocate his position and he jams the spike into the tree. He feels eyes on him from below.

This doesn't make sense. He knows Reiner. Can read him front to cover and back again. He doesn't like girls. If he were like him—and Bertholdt knows at this point likes to look at both sexes—then he would know if Reiner were the same.

After the training exercise, Reiner chugs a canteen of water and is  _still_  with Krista. Bertholdt scans the area for Ymir, wishing for her to butt in and steal her Krista away. Is she absent today?

Two hands grasp his shoulders from behind and he nearly shoots up halfway the height of the tree.

"Why does he do that?" Ymir's voice comes from beside him.

He adjusts his hip strap to calm his frazzled nerves. "Do what?"

Her fingers twiddle over the hip she rests them on. "Flap his wings around like an obnoxious rooster for her. Is he so dense that he doesn't know she's not interested?"

"I can't say." He gnaws on his bottom lip—he's going to be chewing them chapped again for sure. "Aren't you going to go over there?"

"Aren't you?"

He has no response to that.

She rocks on her heels. "I don't think he really has interest in her though."

Hope rises in his chest. "Oh?"

"Nah. He's not the type."

*

Later, the night transcends to bitter cold. Harsh winds battering the northern woods. Bertholdt worries about Annie trying to keep warm on her own. Refusing any sort of human comfort in such conditions. He doesn't know how she survives like that.

Bertholdt slinks inside the tent made of thin, patchy fabric. Reiner lies cocooned in blankets from the neck down. But telling by the chill that lingers, no way is he warm.

He removes his shoes and slides under the icy covers. "You warm enough?" He knows the answer, but feels the need to ask anyway.

"...Yes."

Lie. Reiner thinks he's a great liar, and maybe he is to everyone else, but Bertholdt never fails to catch them.

He touches Reiner's toes with the tip of his own. "Your toes are cold."

"Yeah, okay." Reiner emits a huff of defeat. Bertholdt rolls against him and drapes an arm around his middle. Bertholdt's shivers wane to a mere chill in his extremities. The sight of Reiner flirting with Krista replays in his head from earlier. Something about it still feels off.

 _"I don't think he's the type."_  Ymir's words ring in his mind as he Bertholdt shifts his arm and feels Reiner's heart pounding in his chest. His heavy eyelids snap open. Is he upset? Is he too close? They've huddled like this countless times.

He retracts his arm grazes a patch of bare skin on his neck. It's damp. Sweat? Have they really created such heat. Bertholdt isn't sweating, so why—

Reiner looks at boys the way girls look at boys. Yet it never occurred to him that  _he_  would fit into that category. Not his nearest and dearest friend.

Reiner turns on his side, which he never does, at least not while awake. Bertholdt lies motionless as if trying to regain his balance after being spun around on a top.

He thinks of Ymir's words again. And she would know, she only likes her own sex too. That must mean Reiner is... acting?

Bertholdt is sweating too at the idea of Reiner looking at him in  _that way_.

It terrifies him that he likes it.

* * *

Bertholdt turns the page of his book under the moonlight. A novel found water-damaged in an abandoned Shiganshina street shop. It's a dull story, but anything to take him from his morbid thoughts of if Ymir is dead yet, and if Annie was being tormented or not.

"You gotta come with me," Reiner says, rounding the corner of their tent.

Bertholdt snaps his book shut. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

The glint in Reiner's eye switches his worry to curiosity. He sets down his book and follows Reiner a ways down the moonlight-bathed wall. A blanket comes into view and on either side are two pillows. An unlit red candle presents in its center.

He smiles, a welcome feeling on his weary face. Bertholdt settles onto a dusty pillow across from Reiner. Who takes a matchbox from his pocket the strikes it. The candle wick goes ablaze.

"Happy birthday."

Bertholdt's groomed brows furrow. "It's not my birthday."

"Yeah, it is. You don't remember?"

His birthday is months away. But whatever Reiner is doing seems to be making him happy, so he goes along.

"Ah, of course. How could I forget." He waits for Reiner's 'just kidding' but it doesn't come.

Bertholdt searches his face for a clue of his intentions, but finds his muscles oddly lax. Something is going on. He knows Reiner too well.

"Make a wish."

He considers his wish then licks his lips and blows. The candle sparks out and the calm scent of burned candle fills the air.

"What'd you wish for?"

"I can't tell you or it won't come true."

"Ah, come on."

He pulls one knee against his chest. "I'm superstitious."

"Since when?"

Since never, but he's not about to tell Reiner he wished that he would kiss him. So he just shrugs.

"I'll just have to guess then." He inches closer, and Bertholdt's heart skips. Whatever he's doing, he can't say he dislikes it. "Was is for me to stop bothering you while you're reading?"

"Not quite."

He stares at him for a moment, stares like he hung the moon and Bertholdt is transfixed. They close the gap between them and their lips brush. Bertholdt returns the soft embrace of his lips before he remembers they've never done this before.

He blanches, skipping heart now flip-flopping. "What are you doing?"

Reiner remains frozen, lips still puckered and wet. "What? Zeke's fast asleep in his tent."

All this time and Reiner does it like this? No fuss, just... takes him out and kisses him? No nervousness? No love confession? It's more like he's surprising his boyfriend on his birthday.

Bertholdt's blood runs cold. "Reiner," he starts, wiping his mouth, "what are you?"

...Except soldier Reiner never kissed him

"I'm a warrior." He crosses his arms. "Why are you asking me that?"

"You've never done that before." He enunciates his next his words carefully, "Do you know that?"

He blinks. Once. Twice. The third time is slower. His gaze goes black then he pinches his the bridge of his nose.

The silence hounds his ears as he awaits Reiner's next action. Then, he rises and strides toward the tent.

"Reiner! Wait!" Bertholdt springs to his feet and trails him. The warmth and smiles from minutes prior left in the dark. Reiner takes his 3DM gear from the crate by the tent.

"Reiner," Bertholdt says, but Reiner won't look at him.

Reiner's breaths stutters as he puts on his gear.

He grabs his arm, and when Reiner tries to free it, he digs in his fingers.

"Look at me."

"I need to be alone," he says and yanks his arm free.

He wants to ask what that was.  _Who_  that was because no Reiner he knows believes they are  _together._

Bertholdt's chin quivers as he stands watching Reiner preparing to run away. "Kiss me again."

Reiner stops, his back still turned ominously. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

His voice is flat. "Don't go along with what I do just to spare my feelings."

He circles around and tries to make eye contact but Reiner avoids it. "I'm not. I'd never do that."

"You've been doing it your life."

He ignores his accusation. "I've always known you feel this way."

Reiner finally looks at him, revealing fragility he can see why he was hiding. Bertholdt takes his hands in his. "It's okay." His lips part and he bows in for another kiss.

His mouth is a mere centimeter away when Reiner jerks back. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yes, I do." He tries again for a kiss but Reiner ducks out of his way. Bertholdt's reminded of the tedious game 'whack-a-mole' they have during festivals in Liberio.

"Do you?"

He projects his voice. " _Yes_."

"No, you don't. You can't." His hands gesture wildly. "I don't just want to hug and cuddle and hold hands and kiss under the stars. I want to fuck you and suck your dick and so many other things that I've jacked off thinking about."

He fights not to cringe at the obscene language. His throat grows bone dry. "Okay. And? I'm not scared of that."

"You don't know what you're doing."

"Stop saying that!" he snaps.

Zeke's tent swings open and the man himself takes a step out. "What is this insufferable shouting about?" he demands.

"It's nothing," Reiner replies, and clears his throat.

"Then why are you putting on your gear?"

Bertholdt cuts in, doing his best to imitate his usual placid self. "We were just going for a patrol down below. Pieck will be here soon after all."

The air of Zeke's suspicion only thickens. "You don't need to patrol for Pieck. She'll let us know when she's here. And it's nothing to get excited and shout over." He looks Bertholdt over. "And you're not wearing any gear."

Bertholdt gnashes his teeth. If Zeke figures out Reiner is slipping again...

"He just decided to join me," Reiner tries. But Bertholdt knows it's no use.

Bertholdt is the most powerful titan but ultimately powerless to the whims of others. If he had the courage, he could likely make Zeke do whatever he wanted while on this island. After Reiner's fight with Zeke over rescuing Annie, he could've transformed and brought him to his knees. Demanded that they rescue their comrade immediately.

But that isn't his place.

"You said you had your mental issues under control," Zeke continues, pacing. "I warned you before, someone else will be eager to take that armor from you if you crack under the stress."

Reiner's hands fly up. "Then do it already!"

Bertholdt fiddles with a lock of hair behind his ear, then murmurs, "Don't say that."

Zeke ignores him. "You're not stable. And you still haven't explained to me what was happening here. I can't know how to fix this unless I do. You will lose your armor and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. I hope  _neither_  of us want that to happen."

Bertholdt imagines it as the two continue arguing. Reiner being eaten, devoured, chewed and swallowed. The armored titan without short blond hair and a dented nose. Reiner lest as nothing more a chest of memories in another warrior's mind.

Bertholdt's fist finds Zeke's face.

Reiner jumps. "Bertholdt!"

Pain surges through his hand from the impact. Zeke straightens his glasses and Bertholdt has enough integrity to wait for his reaction before landing the next punch. His war chief lunges and Bertholdt blocks his blows before elbowing his chest and delivering a swift kick. There's a red-hot flurry of limbs, and Bertholdt has the wind knocked from him twice. It only spurs him on. Enough to twist Zeke's wrist until he thinks he hears it break.

_Good._

The prospect of Reiner's armor being given to another is not entirely Zeke's fault. Bertholdt knows this. But he will never let it happen as long as he's breathing. Knowing 'his place' be damned.  
Reiner finally barrels in between their blows. His tank-like body absorbing the force of Bertholdt's.

"Bertholdt," Reiner says, voice halfway like a question.

"We'd only just begun," Zeke says through harsh breaths, and staggers back. "You have to go ruin it."

Bertholdt bares his teeth and tries again for Zeke, but Reiner is a solid object. Sprinkles of rain prickle Bertholdt's face. For a second he's unsure if he's steaming because of the cold on his burning skin or titan steam as he heals. The sensation brings him back down and he lets his arms dangle at his side. Body buzzing with adrenaline.

Zeke dries the trickle of blood staining his ash blond beard, then jerks his dislocated wrist back into place with a sickening crunch. "You losing your temper doesn't change Reiner's mental state."

"Don't threaten him again," Bertholdt says from over Reiner's shoulder.

"I don't want to give the colossus to another too."

"You couldn't." He taps his fingernail on his thumb. Zeke will remember his original method of transformation. "You know you couldn't. This is non-negotiable."

Something akin to fear flashes over Zeke's features. "I see then."

"I'm not backing down on this one."

"Very well," Zeke concedes with a sigh. "Just keep him on a tight leash." He deserves another smack for that, but Bertholdt just gives a slow nod. "Take off your gear. Go to sleep."

Reiner turns to face him. "Yes, war chief." He begins to unbuckle his gear straps.

Steam billows from Zeke's wrist as he waits for them to retreat. Like children being sent to their room for misbehaving. Once Reiner's gear is off, they climb into the tent. Zeke calls, "Be up bright up and early for a cup of coffee!"

Bertholdt dreads the morning already.

Inside, the pain sets in. Throbbing through his chest, his left upper arm, and his hip. He inspects himself for broken bones and dislocations, but finds none. His lips twitch up as he allows himself a smidgen of pride.

Reiner sits on his knees. "Why did you do it?"

He blinks. Is he that dense? "You have to ask me that?"

He bows his head in apology. "I don't... I don't know what I was thinking, before. Why I thought we were together like that."

"I know why." Reiner looks up and waits with bated breath. Like Bertholdt holds the secret of the universe. "It's because it's what you want. You admitted it. You can't deny it now."

"I'm sorry." He covers his face with his hand. "I'm so sorry, Bertl."

"It's okay."

He rubs his face up and down. "No, you trusted me to be your friend and I've been feeling like this behind your back. We spent years together, sleeping next to each other. You sleeping and using me as a body pillow. Changing clothes together, showering together. It's all fun and games until it's not."

His heart aches, and despite being mere inches from him he feels he can't reach him. Like he's throwing rope after rope into a river but Reiner's just standing there. Arms fastened against his chest as Bertholdt assures him the rope is real. That it won't break. That it's okay to take it.

Bertholdt could go on a tangent, go over their lives and remind him how obvious his devotion is. But instead he says only, "Why are you sure I'm not the same as you?"

His hand slowly drifts down and reveals copper-colored eyes ripe with stress. "That'd be even worse."

"What? Why?"

"How could I ever measure up?"

He caresses his wrist. Now knowing no words can make him see. So he'll have to show him. He moves in to kiss him again.

Reiner edges out of the way. "You're only doing this because I did."

He places his thumb on his chin. "I said to stop saying that. Please." His long fingers trace his shirt and unbuttons his top button. Reiner's breathing hitches.

Bertholdt undoes the rest of the buttons, vaguely aware of wisps of steam coming from his most bruised patch of his arm. "There's scarier things than me taking your clothes off."

Reiner gives a shake of his head. "No."

He slips off his shirt. "Titans." Reiner still shakes his head. "Marley." Another shake of his head. "Zeke's bed-head."

Reiner cracks-up. "You're funny."

Bertholdt runs his hands across his bare chest. Skin firm and somehow baby soft despite their rough conditions. He sighs. "And your body is so..." Perfect. Marvelous. Chiseled. Amazing. No words are suitable for this either.

"Yeah," he says with a smirk. And Bertholdt is so glad to see that again. Regardless if it exists to conceal an insecure boy.

They discard each other's clothes with precision. Sharing experimental kisses that deepen once they pass the learning curve. A tremor claims Reiner's hands as he explores Bertholdt's body. Erasing all traces of pain better than any titan healing. Bertholdt's shaky too, but feels like he hides it better. Just a little. The pulse in Bertholdt's reddening cheeks matches that in his his loins. Reiner kisses his neck and a noise comes from deep within his throat he's never heard himself make before.

"Let me focus on you first," Bertholdt rasps.

Reiner's index finger maps his shoulder-blade. "You're too kind to me, you know."

Bertholdt works on pleasing him and Reiner rests his head on his bare shoulder. Moistening his neck with slow panting. Face hidden because Bertholdt thinks he's a bit shy and that's ridiculously cute. He paints kisses across his temple, his cheeks, and the fine hair atop his head. Drinking up as much Reiner as humanly possible.

He holds onto him for dear life as he comes. Coating Bertholdt's hand and moaning his name. His name on Reiner's lips while in ecstasy is more beautiful than a melody. Bertholdt aches with need, and sweats from the stuffy tent and warm body against his. Dizzy from the soar and crash of adrenaline and the now rampant lust filling his veins.

"Hey," Bertholdt breathes. "Let's lie down."

He lies on his back across the covers. Propping himself up with elbows and realizing how naked he is. Nothing Reiner hasn't seen before, but he bends his legs up instinctively as a shield.

Reiner kneels in and cups his face. "You said there were scarier things."

"I lied."

He places a gentle hand on his knees and urges his legs flat. Then he looms over him and they share a passionate kiss that makes Bertholdt's toes curl. That same foreign sound leaves his throat again when Reiner starts stroking him.

"Just like that," he cries when Reiner nips at his neck. Astounded at how loud he is. He never makes this much noise when touching himself. "Reiner..."

He won't last long, he can't hold out for the long sensuous lovemaking he dreamed of. But when they have the rest of the evening to kill, it doesn't matter.

He forgets his right hand is soiled and digs both hands into Reiner's back. Kaleidoscopes dance behind his eyes and he finishes with a gasp and shudder.

The next few minutes blur. Head lolling on Reiner's chest and his body like porridge as sleep tries to pull him under. The feeling of Reiner softly biting at his stomach brings him back to the land of the living. He cards his hands through Reiner's hair. Did he clean them? Oh well. Reiner doesn't seem to mind.

"Mmm, I wanna sleep," he mumbles.

He peers up at him. "Don't you remember what I said earlier?"

No. He can't remember a thing that happened today.

He mutters a gibberish response. Reiner  _reminds him_  with a hot mouth and Bertholdt bolts upright.

"Oh, oh,  _oh_."

The kaleidoscopes behind his eyes blind him. But the prisms Reiner makes him see will never make him stop watching.


End file.
